


Scrambled

by Gorsecloud



Category: Persona 5, Persona 5 Strikers
Genre: Gen, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Persona 5 Scramble: The Phantom Strikers, Persona 5 Strikers Spoilers, Phantom Thieves of Hearts as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-25 20:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorsecloud/pseuds/Gorsecloud
Summary: It was an adventure that took place over one month - one month with so many adventures, but also many moments, tucked away and hidden from sight.An anthology of short stories and missing moments from Persona 5: Strikers.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	1. traffic jam (august 23rd)

**Author's Note:**

> I picked this title before we got the official localization name and I ain't changing it now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenkichi and Futaba have a talk while en route to saving their friends and family
> 
> It's an uncomfortable talk. But possibly not a bad one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for up to August 23rd  
> No major CWs for this one, although past suicidal ideation is referenced (in relation to Futaba's Palace)

Zenkichi’s car would be faster than going on foot, they’d both realized. They piled in, Sakura parking herself in shotgun position while he started the engine.

“Where is it? Where’re we headed?” 

“Inari Taisha.” 

Zenkichi cursed under his breath, checking his mirrors before looking at her sideways. “Seatbelt.” 

Internally he winced, slightly. Any other time and Sakura would undoubtedly have teased him about it. Just then though, she hastily clicked the seatbelt into face, grimacing. 

Akane had a Jail. Akane had a _Jail_. He knew what he needed to do, but the words kept replaying in his head. How had it come to this? It was obvious this was meant to be a trap for the kids, with the messages Sakura said that Ren had gotten before they’d left. But why _her_ specifically? He’d done everything he could to-

“S-she’ll be okay,” Sakura mumbled, a bit too quietly to be entirely convincing, “Akane will.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself humorlessly. He still doesn’t think he’s great at knowing how these things are supposed to go, but he’s pretty sure he probably should be reassuring _her_ , not the other way around. 

“We’ll get the others, and then we’ll figure it out. She’ll be okay,” Sakura insisted, voice getting stronger, “I know she’s your daughter so this is like… super personal to you. But... it is for us too, I promise. We’ll fix this.” 

These kids really were too good, at heart. Even if he doubted they could _actually_ understand. But hey, positive thinking, right? “Yeah, I know,” he said, “I just still don’t understand _how_ this happened though. How do they pick who becomes a Jail ruler and who doesn’t?” 

“Well… it’s pretty new. There wasn’t a Jail in Kyoto when we were here last,” Sakura mused, “And besides… it… seems like there’s plenty of material for a potential distortion there.” 

“Distortion?” This was new. The kids had never mentioned anything like this before. 

“It’s… it was a bigger deal with Palaces. That’s what we dealt with last year. If you had particularly strong desires, and those desires got distorted and grew, a Palace would form.”

It occurred to him, as he listened, that he didn’t actually know much about the Metaverse side of things from the Phantom Thieves’ reign a year ago - not that he really understood them now, but here at least he knew enough of the terminology to try to keep up with their conversations and strategy meetings.

It also occurred to him that _every stoplight was conspiring to be red._

To keep himself from bristling too much with impatience, he asked,“So what’s the big difference, between Palaces and Jails?” 

Sakura fidgeted. “A lot of things I think, but it’s probably not worth explaining them all right now. The biggest thing is that nobody else’s desires were being stolen. The only person directly affected by a Palace was the Palace ruler themselves. Other people could still get hurt though, because the more the Ruler’s desires got out of control, the more it affected how they acted in reality.” 

“So….” he was trying to follow along, he really was, but there seemed to be a certain mental jump to it he wasn’t sure how to make quite yet. 

“So like… somebody really really wanted to hold onto their glory days, and that got distorted to think he deserved all his glory, like a king in a castle… his Palace would _be_ a castle, and he might start acting like he could do whatever he wanted to people in his “castle,” like abuse or harass them.”

It takes a few more seconds, but it clicks into place. “Suguru Kamoshida?” The first of the Phantom Thieves targets? 

Sakura bobs her head quickly. “It was stuff like that. So you’d have stuff like… an artist who saw his students as artworks, that he could do whatever he wanted with…”

Madarame. 

“... or like a courthouse was a casino, where big players compete via proxies, and everything’s rigged so the house always wins...”

… he actually didn’t know who that one was, but either way _that_ was an uncomfortably stark look at how their justice system could be. 

“... or like seeing the Diet Building as his own personal ship so he could steer Japan however he wanted.”

That _had_ to be Shido. Goddamn it. No wonder these kids were so mistrustful, to see the warped ways that adults viewed the world on such a grand display. 

It was another few roads down that he managed to find the voice to speak again. 

“That still doesn’t explain why you think Akane has distortions. She’s not anything like that.”

Sakura jumped, just slightly. “R-right. Sorry. I know I… didn’t really make it sound that way but… not all Palaces ended up…. Like that. The desires just had to be really strong, and really distorted.” 

She took a deep breath; it almost seemed like she was steeling herself for something. 

“There was one Palace from last year,” she said, slowly, “It was for a person who saw their room as a tomb. And as it got worse they just… didn’t want to leave it. Could barely talk to anybody, even through text.” 

The tension in the room was like a taut bowstring, plucked and humming. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. 

“Whose Palace was that?” 

“Mine.” 

He nearly missed the stoplight in front of him going red ( _again_ ). The car screeched to a halt. In the time it took for Sakura to relinquish her deathgrip on the chair, he digested what she’d just said. 

“You… had one of these Palaces.” 

“Yeah,” her voice was very quiet. 

“Want to run by me how that even _worked_?”

“Nnnnnot really.”

Okay he couldn’t help but chuckle weakly at that. “Fair enough.” 

And yet, after a few moments later, she answered anyway. “My mom studied cognitive psience, especially about Palaces and things. One day Shido’s goons turned up and told her to stop, but she wouldn’t. So instead… she had a mental shutdown. Not that anybody knew. She just… fell into traffic. And they faked a suicide note so… so that everyone would blame me instead-”

Oh _hell_ no. 

“-even me. That was the distortion-”

“Sakura.” 

He was going to need to pull over at this rate, but he reached out and put a hand on her head, both in some embarrassingly pathetic attempt at comfort and get her to stop speaking, if only for a moment. Just to give him an opening.

“You don’t need to tell me this.” 

He wasn’t sure if it was just needing time to process, or that he _knew_ how hard this had to be for her (really knew, he’d escorted more than a handful of battered folks away from the places and people who left them in that state). Or if he just didn't want to hear it at all, hear a story so similar to Akane’s, from one of the kids he'd been ready to sell out just a couple weeks ago. Even just putting this new information with what Sakura had described of her own Palace earlier - seeing her own room as a tomb. He was a detective; he could connect the dots. 

If nothing else though, he didn't want her to feel... _obligated_ , just because he asked.

“I _know_ ,” she said, brushing his hand off insistently, “But I _know_ how much that can mess somebody up, seeing something like that-”

God _she_ saw it too? What sort of sick joke was this? 

“How long ago?” 

“... Three years, on the 21st.” 

The 21st. Two days ago. The day of the police raid. “Of all the goddamn _days_ -”

“Yeah, I know, I've already told the others the 21st is _cancelled_. But- It’s how I know she’ll be okay, alright!” Futaba continued forcefully, as if she wanted to make sure he understood this part. “We got me out of there. We’ll get Akane too.” 

The light turned green. 

“... sorry.” 

He chuckled helplessly. “Don’t apologize, kid.” 

There was a soft huffing noise. He wondered if Sakura felt as wrung out as he did right now. 

“Let’s just… focus on getting everyone back.” 

She’d said it was personal. And true, Akane wasn’t their only daughter, but he was getting the impression that he'd still underestimated them a bit. Kept underestimating them, even now. Even after they’d gotten him to _care_ again, to fight for the right thing. 

“Right,” she said, ducking her head. It was like flipping a switch, like her excess of bravado had abruptly run dry. Or maybe she'd been trying to keep herself from thinking too hard about the infiltration they were about to attempt. “Right. This is only like… literally a Navigator’s worst nightmare. It’ll be fine!” 

“What, is trying to lead someone like me really that bad?” 

“Hey, it's not-! It’s just… if something goes wrong during a fight, I can’t _do_ anything. It’s not just that my Persona’s bad at it. I can’t. I have nightmares sometimes about one of them going down and all I can do is just… watch.” Her hands twisted a little. “That could even be you too now, if we’re not careful. And I know what you said back there, but you can’t die. I get it, I know you’re going in no matter what, but you _can’t_.” 

There was probably something else deeply personal here, something he wasn’t ready to wade into again now that they were finally moving into safer waters. So instead he suggested, “Then how about you start telling me everything I should expect when we get there?” 

It took a moment for her to switch tracks, but after half a second, Sakura nodded. “Yeah… yeah you’re right.” 

She took a deep breath and launched into a series of explanations. Explanations he only understood maybe half of, but he did his best to take in every word, hoping it would all make sense later in context. 

Either way, he was getting his daughter and these kids out, and he was going to make sure Konoe and the likes of Shido and Owada didn’t have another chance to lay a finger on them. He swore it.


	2. three calls (august 21st)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On August 21st, Futaba called him three times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no major cws;  
> Spoilers through august 21st of Scramble (which, apropos of _absolutely nothing_ , is the anniversary of Wakaba Isshiki's death)

On August 21st, Futaba called him three times. 

The first time was bright and early in the morning, earlier than he would have expected from her, normally. He’d just gotten to the shop, just finished pouring out two cups of coffee for himself and a ghost. 

“H-hey Dad,” she said, her voice fragile, “Thought you might be up.” 

Calling him “dad” like that, right off the bat, let him know the kind of mood she was in. He could hear the wind on her end, the sound of cars. She was outside, but in a city still, and not on the road, which matched up with what she’d texted him last night, about stopping in Fukuoka. They hadn’t left yet either, which also made sense. They _were_ a group of teenagers, after all.

His own voice was quiet as he replied, voice heavy with a weight they both knew, “Well, you know me. How are you holding up?”

Last two years around this time, she’d been in her room sleeping hard. A bad reaction to the heat, along with the side effects of sliding her way down into the depths of depression in one instance, and clambering her way out on the other. 

She exhaled, shakily. “Not bad,” she admitted, “I think I thought I’d be worse, but… It’s been easy to just. Not have to think about it, with everything going on. It’s helped a lot. The others need me too, so I can just focus on that if stuff gets hard.” 

“I’m glad,” he said, and meant it. If this whole road trip gave his kids nothing else, at least there was that. 

“I still wanted to call though,” she added, “Zenkichi called and he wants us to head over to Kyoto today. Makoto still isn’t feeling great but… He said it’s really important, so we’re gonna figure something out.” 

He gave a couple suggestions, and they talked a little more about this and that while sun slowly crept into the room at LeBlanc, painting the floors and walls in warmth. While Wakaba’s coffee cooled in front of him, and he had to start considering whether he wanted to actually open up the store today or not. They kept talking until Futaba’s voice was stronger and he could hear more sounds of people on her end. 

At last, Futaba let him know that she should probably get back to the others and see how they were doing. It was at least eight hours over to Kyoto, so they needed to get moving soon. 

“Hey, Futaba?” he said, before she could hang up, “Your mother would be proud of you, you know?”

And she _would’ve_. Wakaba had always been proud of her daughter. But she especially would have been proud now, to see her growing up. Handling all of this so well. 

Futaba swallowed. “Thanks,” she said quietly, before hanging up.

* * *

The second call came in the evening, a bit sooner than Sojiro would have expected. When he pointed out as much, Futaba only groaned and mumbled something about the Okumura girl never being allowed to drive again. 

She babbled for a bit then, about how they’d made it to Kyoto in one piece, how Zenkichi had gotten them a night at a _traditional inn_ with _actual hot springs and everything_ (as she’d put it). Which had seemed like a lot, until she’d added a different sort of bombshell, her voice filled with a grim sort of satisfaction. 

“We think we know who the culprit is.”

“Really? Does that mean you might be coming home soon?” Sojiro couldn’t hide the relief he felt at the idea. 

August was wearing on quickly, probably more quickly than any of them would have liked. If September rolled around and the case was still unresolved... Ren would keep going, keep working to find the true culprit - he’d _have_ to, for his own sake. And Sojiro knew the other kids wouldn’t leave him to handle it all alone either. But school wouldn’t wait for any of them, and going missing in the middle of the year would raise questions that many of them wouldn’t be able to answer. 

In other words, this whole situation would turn into a royal mess if it lasted too much longer, and the kids would be feeling it more than anyone else. 

“Not quite yet. We still gotta get proof but… if everything works out that’s where we’re headed next,” Futaba replied.

Made sense. “Well, either way, I’m glad to hear it.” 

Futaba hummed in response, in that way that let him know she was still thinking about something. He didn’t press though, knowing she’d tell him or she wouldn’t, either way. And he didn’t have to wait long. 

“When you worked for the government, did you know a guy named Owada?” she said finally, and _there_ was a name to set Sojiro’s teeth on edge. 

“Kind of hard not to,” he ground out, “With how long he’s been there.”

He and Shido had been thick as thieves, though. So many of Shido’s compatriots had been caught up in his downfall, but Sojiro knew there were others still out there. It was one of the things that still made him uneasy, knowing that Ren was being followed, and knowing so many of the kids still walked out and around Tokyo by themselves, going to and from school, jobs, and whatever else kids did these days. Either way though, Owada, who’d somehow managed to keep his hands clean during the whole United Future affair, would have been one of the people he’d have stared hardest at. 

Figured _he_ was the one trying to make a mess of Sojiro’s kids’ lives again, if he understood the implications of Futaba’s words.

It seemed Futaba got what she’d been looking for too in his own comment, brief as it was. 

“Thought that might be the case… Well, either way, I’m gonna be glad to be getting home soon. It’s been a lot fun, and I really mean a _lot_ … but I’m starting to miss home. Plus your curry is still the best!” 

It wasn’t the worst topic change he’d ever heard. And he chuckled a bit in spite of himself. “Just be careful. You’re in the home stretch; no good getting careless now.”

* * *

The third call came in the dead of night, startling Sojiro out of his sleep. It took him a few seconds to realize what the sound was, where it was coming from. Took him a few seconds longer to scramble out of bed and find his phone, and by then, it’d already switched over to voicemail. 

He was halfway through calling her back when a notification let him know that she’d already finished her message, so he flipped over to listen to that instead. 

_“Dad-”_

His heart jumped into his throat, adrenaline flooding his veins even though he was far, far too many miles away to be any help at all. There was a fear in her voice, a fear he hadn’t heard in months. Her breathing was heavy - had she been running? 

_”We’re getting out now. Zenkichi warned us, and we have a place to go. I can’t- I won’t be able to call after this. I don’t think they’d be able to track my phone but I really don’t want to test it right now._

_I’ll call you when it’s safe. We’ll be okay, I promise.”_

_“Futaba, c’mon-”_

He recognized Ann Takamaki’s voice in the background, urgent. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard her _scared_ before but he could hear it now. Futaba took a shuddering breath.

 _”I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I love you.”_

The message ended there. 

Sojiro didn’t waste any time. He walked down to the living room and turned on the TV. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for on the late-night news: replays of an earlier message from the big-shot CEO of Madicce, claiming the Phantom Thieves were trying to hack EMMA, of all the goddamn things. Accusing them of blackmail, of murdering one of his scientists. His kids, once again being thrown to the wolves so the true culprits could get away with it all. 

With a sigh, Sojiro stood up and strode towards the kitchen to make some coffee. He wasn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will very likely end up being reposted later as part of a longer oneshot - one that covers Sojiro's perspective of all of P5S. But I've been wrestling with that for days now and nothing else of what I've written so far feels quite like it does this part justice so I'm just throwing it up now because it can stand on its own anyway. [There are no rules, run the dishwasher twice](https://forge.medium.com/run-the-dishwasher-twice-e24ff24def60). 
> 
> Also as a side note, I may oscillate between using Akira and Ren in different oneshots. Fair warning.


End file.
